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HRA# Chapter 86: Ancestors Aid Me and Quirrell’s Plea for Help
🕑 Added 2025-04-02 21:30:54 +0000 UTC“After all, if they’re closer to the castle, we can protect them more quickly. If something happens, it’ll be easier to provide support,” Harry explained. “It’s better than them hiding deep in the Forbidden Forest where no one would even know if something went wrong. The castle has plenty of professors, and Dumbledore’s here too.”
“That might be a bit tricky,” Hagrid said, his face twisting into a troubled expression. “The unicorns have always been wary of humans. After losing so many of their kind, they’re downright terrified now. Even I can’t get too close to them anymore, let alone bring them near the castle… There are just too many people here.”
“It’s still better than letting more of them die,” Harry pressed on. “I remember unicorns can understand human speech and have a fair amount of intelligence. If you explain the seriousness of the situation to them, they should see the necessity of this plan.”
If they still refused after that and insisted on moving even farther from the castle—or to a place where they’d be more vulnerable to attack—well, there wasn’t much else to be done. Unless Quirrell or Voldemort made a move, Harry and Hagrid couldn’t spend all day lurking in the depths of the Forbidden Forest to guard the unicorns.
“It’s just a matter of getting them to stay at the edge of the Forbidden Forest temporarily,” Harry said, already forming a plan. “They don’t need to stay long. We can set a trap around them.”
“Using unicorn blood to extend one’s life is essentially trading one powerful poison to suppress a slightly weaker one,” he continued. “Suppose the first time someone drinks unicorn blood, it buys them five extra days. The next time, it’s only two days, and so on.”
“From the moment that dark wizard drinks unicorn blood, their life enters a countdown,” Harry concluded. “They’ll need it more and more, in greater amounts—and that need will force them to reveal themselves by attacking the unicorns under our protection.”
Harry resolved to use this trap to eliminate Voldemort’s threat once and for all. This time, with proper preparation, he wouldn’t let that fragmented soul slip away again.
“All you need to do is lean on the trust the unicorns have in you and convince them to move to the forest’s edge for a while,” Harry said to Hagrid. “I’ll handle the rest.”
“You’ll handle it?” Hagrid let out a booming laugh. “Oh, Harry, I know you’re impressive. Honestly, those four massive things you summoned the other day aren’t something an ordinary wizard could deal with—probably not even most Aurors!”
“If that’s the case, then you should trust me,” Harry said earnestly.
“But it’s not that simple, you know, Harry,” Hagrid replied, his ruddy face glowing. “You’re just a student. Keeping the castle grounds safe is my job as gamekeeper.”
“Or maybe it’s the professors’ job,” Hagrid muttered under his breath.
“Anyway, don’t take it to heart, Harry,” he added with his usual hearty tone. “I’m not about to let you put yourself in danger. Still, getting the unicorns to stay near the forest’s edge isn’t a bad idea. Maybe I’ll ask Dumbledore about it.”
Harry gave Hagrid a slightly exasperated look. His big-hearted friend was a good man, but when it came to the finer details…
When Harry already knew about something like this, how could he not step in to help?
With that thought, he pulled out his two bowls.
“You’re going to divine something?” Hagrid’s eyes lit up as he noticed. “That’s right, Harry! How could I forget? We can figure out when that creep will attack the unicorns!”
“Sorry, Hagrid, I can’t pinpoint an exact time,” Harry said bluntly. “I can only divine where the unicorns will be attacked in the future… Hmm, do you have anything related to them?”
“Let me think,” Hagrid said, standing up and looking around. He walked over to the windowsill and picked up a dusty bundle that looked like a horse’s tail, though it shimmered more brightly. “Will these hairs work? I found them on some bark in the Forbidden Forest. They’re probably from that unicorn herd.”
“Of course, just one will do,” Harry nodded.
Hagrid’s hut had the air of a hermit’s retreat. It was filled with things that seemed ordinary but were actually quite valuable—like this grimy handful of hairs. In Diagon Alley, unicorn hair could fetch several Galleons per strand.
Using the unicorn hair as a guide, Harry parted the mist in the water’s surface before him. He saw a forest—trees, grass, stones.
“Can you tell where this is?” Harry asked, looking up at Hagrid.
“It’s the Forbidden Forest,” Hagrid answered.
“Where in the Forbidden Forest?”
“No idea,” Hagrid said, scratching his head with a grumble. “The forest is just too big. Even after working here half my life, I can’t keep track of every spot.”
“Fair enough,” Harry sighed. Divination couldn’t solve everything.
He thought for a moment, then dipped his fingers in the water and touched his brow—calling on his spirit for a premonition, a simple way to let intuition guide his next move.
Suddenly, Harry’s eyes snapped open, and he leapt from his chair.
“Let’s go, Hagrid!”
“Huh? Where to?” Hagrid blinked, still catching up.
“To the Forbidden Forest,” Harry said simply. “My gut tells me we need to go there—and fast.”
Seeing Harry’s serious expression, Hagrid jumped to his feet. A little liquor didn’t slow him down; if anything, it sharpened his edge. In no time, he’d thrown on his leather coat and slung his bow and arrows over his shoulder.
“I should warn you, Harry,” Hagrid said, a touch uneasy. “In the Forbidden Forest, you’d better not summon that fiery giant thing.”
“Don’t worry,” Harry replied curtly. “I’m not an idiot.”
It was as if he already knew where he was headed. Hagrid wasn’t leading Harry—Harry was leading Hagrid. He’d surrendered his mind to his spirit’s guidance, that irrational force of magic. He crossed streams, climbed hills, and several times Hagrid nearly spoke up to point out they were veering away from the unicorn herd’s direction. But he held his tongue.
Finally, Harry stopped. He didn’t need to signal Hagrid—the moment they spotted the figure across the river, Hagrid had already nocked an arrow and let it fly.
The figure wore a black robe, their entire form shrouded, but it was the aura—unsettling just to look at—that marked them as trouble. Normally, Hagrid might have shouted a warning first, in case it was a wizard who’d wandered into the forest by mistake. But now? If they died, they died.
Harry didn’t know the exact draw weight of Hagrid’s bow—hundreds of pounds, surely—but the shot’s power was undeniable. The arrow tore through the air with a piercing whistle and, in an instant, punched through the figure on the far bank.
It did no damage. A cloud of black smoke erupted from beneath the robe, and the figure seemed to turn phantom-like, the arrow passing harmlessly through. The smoke didn’t spread naturally—it moved with purpose, alive, rushing toward Harry and Hagrid. The ground it touched withered instantly, yellowed grass curling into blackened husks.
As the smoke crossed the river, even the flowing water took on an eerie hue, its downstream effects unknown but surely grim.
This wasn’t ordinary dark magic. It called for heavy measures.
“Watch out, Hagrid! Don’t let it touch you!” Harry shouted. He raised his hands, and in an instant, crackling blue arcs of electricity erupted around him—Lightning Arrow!
“Furious winds, heed my command!”
He cast again, and a totem forged of wind elements stabbed into the earth. A cold gust swept through the trees, rustling leaves and raising a wind wall before Harry. The oncoming black smoke roiled against it, curling like waves, unable to breach the barrier.
Hagrid was a dependable hunter. In mere seconds, he’d loosed three arrows with relentless precision—most wouldn’t understand how grueling it was to draw a heavy bow repeatedly in such a short span. But to Harry’s sidelong glance, Hagrid made it look effortless, not even pausing to catch his breath.
With his thick skin and resistance to spells, Harry was nearly certain of Hagrid’s lineage—one of his parents had to be a giant. Probably his mother, for reasons anyone could guess.
The figure across the river didn’t speak. When their black mist failed, they waved their wand. A row of twisted, translucent faces materialized in the air, howling in agony before charging at Harry and Hagrid.
“Protego!”
Harry tried this world’s magic first, but the Iron Armor Charm might as well have been paper—the faces tore through it in an instant.
Wrong defensive spell.
“Ancestors, answer my call!” Harry drove another totem into the ground.
A translucent blue figure appeared before him—unmistakably his father, James Potter.
“Harry?” James greeted with enthusiasm. “Is it time for another get-together? Your mum and I were just—”
His words cut off. James spoke fast, but he grasped the situation in a heartbeat.
Danger, Harry, danger.
“Get them, Dad!” Harry roared as the faces closed in on Hagrid.
Some things didn’t need teaching—like the ancestral spirits summoned by a shaman, who carried the power of another realm.
“Leave it to me!” James shouted, exhilarated.
This was his dream—fighting alongside his son and old comrades! A blazing combo with his kid!
James thrust out a hand, and blue shields of soul energy flared around Harry and Hagrid. After casting them, the glow around him dimmed noticeably.
But he wasn’t done.
James arched back, puffed out his cheeks, and exhaled—a shimmering blue breath, soft yet potent. As it passed through the faces, they dissolved into nothing.
When it was over, James’s form was nearly transparent, his face weary but untroubled.
“That’s all I can do, Harry,” he said, looking at his son. “Be caref—”
He vanished mid-sentence.
“Don’t worry,” Harry murmured, yanking his raised hand down—Earthquake!
This wasn’t Hogwarts or a Muggle city. It was the Forbidden Forest.
The ground split open in an instant, the river swallowed by a chasm. Earth elements surged, bending to Harry’s will.
“Merlin’s trousers…” Hagrid muttered, clutching his pink umbrella—when had he grabbed that?—and bracing himself against the sudden quake.
Lava erupted from the depths, and the black figure dodged frantically. A corner of their robe caught fire, dissolving into smoke.
The wind elemental from earlier hurled lightning and razor-sharp gusts. The figure didn’t feel like they were facing a wizard—they were battling the environment itself.
The earth sprouted hands of stone and soil, wood and muck, rising like a cage around the fleeing figure—BOOM!
A deep groan rumbled from the ground.
This corner of the Forbidden Forest was transformed. The river, diverted, sought a new path, while Harry clenched his fists, chanting under his breath.
The earth elements tightened, their bonds growing stronger, crushing anything foreign into dust.
Was this figure another of Voldemort’s bodies, or Quirrell himself? If the latter, Harry hoped he’d die cleanly. As for Voldemort, physical damage wouldn’t touch him.
Only raw elemental and soul power could.
Harry held one totem in reserve—the second ancestral one, to summon his mother, Lily Potter. If Voldemort’s soul fragment showed itself, he’d call her forth. After shattering Voldemort eleven years ago, she could do it again.
But even as Dumbledore arrived in his nightrobes, borne by his phoenix, Voldemort never reappeared.
“Harry?” Dumbledore surveyed the aftermath. “What happened?”
Totems stood scattered around Harry, and Hagrid gripped his red umbrella, fully armed. Dumbledore pieced it together—Hagrid had already told him about the unicorn attacks.
“Oh, and our last meeting was in an abandoned classroom,” Dumbledore added. “Was it him?”
“Him? Who’s him?” Hagrid asked, puzzled, before brightening. “Good thing you’re here, Headmaster! We found a dark wizard!”
“Very likely,” Harry said, keeping it vague with Hagrid present. He turned to Dumbledore. “Are you sure he can’t bypass Hogwarts’ Apparition wards? What if he’s got another phoenix or there’s a loophole?”
“No need to worry, Hagrid,” Dumbledore said first, waving to him before answering Harry carefully. “In my limited knowledge, there’s no third phoenix in the magical world. Besides Fawkes, the other is the mascot of New Zealand’s Motora Golden Parrots… As for the school’s defenses, I’m the only one with headmaster privileges.”
“That’s odd, then,” Harry murmured. “Why didn’t he—huh?”
He walked toward what had been the riverbed, now a flat expanse of dark gray stone.
“Hey! Harry! Careful!” Hagrid called nervously.
“It’s fine,” Harry said absently, crouching to inspect the rock. Something was burrowing out.
An earth elemental.
A tiny one, barely palm-sized, struggling to emerge. It wasn’t one Harry had summoned. Fully out, it opened its clasped hands to reveal a small scrap of parchment.
“I suppose you’ve found what you were waiting for,” Harry said, standing and handing the fragment to Dumbledore, who’d joined him. He gazed toward the castle.
Dumbledore smiled pleasantly at the scrap. “It seems your apprentices aren’t just twelve, Harry.”
On the parchment, scrawled hastily, was a single word.
【help】
Comments
Vick
Also a potential typo. If I remember right, Hagris use a crossbow: crossbow also use bolt and not arrow.
Vick
So Quirel didn't willingly followed NoNose?
